The man opened his eyes and to his astonishment saw, curled up on his knees, a scruffy, skinny little grey kitten with ears sticking out at odd angles on its tiny head. The kitten stood up on its hind legs and gently nuzzled his face… Heart defects are among the most severe of diagnoses. In some cases, when a patient’s condition becomes critical, a donor organ transplant is the only hope. As they wait for a suitable heart, patients often undergo operations or receive special electronic devices to keep their weakened heart functioning. Yet even with modern technology, many born with heart disease never reach adulthood. But this man’s story was an exception. He made it to thirty-five, which doctors called a miracle. Annual hospital stays, constant tests, and surgeries became his routine. Doctors fitted implants, corrected heart function—doing all they could to buy him a little more time. That’s how he “held on”—because it was hardly a real life, living every day awaiting a donor, an operation, or death. He didn’t start a family. First, he couldn’t find a woman willing to live in constant shadow of risk. Second, he didn’t want to burden anyone. His parents passed away, and he was left alone. Long bouts in hospital became a habit, but this time felt different. The doctor shuffled papers, checked something on the computer, and sighed. Then, summoning the courage, he said: “You need to get your affairs in order. If you want to make arrangements or leave something to someone—do it. And visit your family…” The doctor looked down and continued: “We’re still hoping for a donor, but… it’s a matter of luck. Your condition is grave. Further operations won’t help. We can put you in a private room on life support, but you won’t be able to leave until the transplant. And when a heart will come… only God knows.” The man said nothing. He was exhausted, drained by fear and waiting. Tired of fighting endlessly for a life that barely felt his own. He smiled and said: “Don’t worry. It’s alright. I’ve decided—long ago, actually—that I’ll go on a journey.” The doctor looked up, alarmed: “You shouldn’t travel far from the hospital! What if a donor is found? We won’t be able to help you!” But the man stood up and left. He couldn’t listen anymore. Tired of hospital walls and restrictions, he went to a travel agency. His last wish was to see Venice—the city floating on water, to wander its bridges and glide in a gondola. His heart beat unevenly, weakness washed over him, and he sat on a park bench. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, waiting for the pain to ease. Sunlight streamed through the leaves, and he stared until he had to shut his eyes. Then— Something light landed on his lap. He opened his eyes: a filthy, thin little grey kitten with ears sticking out in all directions was sitting on him. The kitten stood up on its back paws and nuzzled his face with its warm little nose. “Excuse me…” came a voice to his right. A woman of about thirty stood beside him. “I came for him—I wanted to take him home, but he escaped… You’re not planning on keeping him, are you? Please, let me have him.” The man smiled and tried to pass the kitten to her but the little thing clung to his jacket with tiny claws and cried out. Surprised, he eased his grip. “There now, little one. You can’t stay with me—I’m not even sure I’ll wake up tomorrow. You should go to this lovely lady.” “Why aren’t you sure you’ll be alive tomorrow?” she asked quietly, sitting next to him. Suddenly, he told her everything—from his childhood, to that morning’s talk with the doctor. He spoke of his fears, his endless struggle, and his dream to see Venice. As he spoke, the little bundle in his arms fell asleep, clutching him tight with its claws. The woman struggled to hold back tears. “I’m sorry…” the man said awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “That’s enough!” she said sharply, standing. “You will go to Venice. But right now…” We’ll go to my place and I’ll fetch everything I’ve prepared for the kitten. Then we’ll go to yours. We’ll settle him in properly—he’s chosen you, after all. The man stood and handed her his key. “This is to my flat. If anything happens to me… please, take him.” “Nothing will happen to you!” she said firmly. “Now you have someone to live for.” They walked along the avenue, talking and laughing. For the first time, he stopped listening to his heartbeat. The weakness was gone, as if it had never been. I won’t tire you with all the details. Here’s what matters. He lived another twenty years. Twenty happy years. He and that woman had two sons. They all travelled to Venice together, rode gondolas, listened to street singers, walked beneath the moon. The city became their shared dream come true. The man forgot about hospitals. Though the doctors summoned him for yearly check-ups, his wife had to drag him there. “I feel perfectly fine!” he’d grumble. But you can’t cheat death. You can only delay it, if you know what you’re living for. One night the old grey cat climbed onto his arms. The man understood at once. Quietly, he got up, careful not to wake his wife, and stepped onto the balcony. The moon shone brilliantly, as if just for him. He sat in his chair, cradled the cat to his chest, and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here. I love you.” The cat looked into his eyes, gave a soft sigh, and slipped into its last sleep. The man stroked him, gazing at the moon. And that’s how they found them in the morning—together, the man staring into the sky. They were buried side by side. His wife said: “Their hearts lived together, and stopped together.” She blamed neither fate nor God. She knew those twenty gifted years were the greatest happiness. She was grateful—to the world, to the scruffy kitten, to the man with the fragile heart—and to herself, for not passing him by. Who can say where miracles begin? That’s how their story ended. Perhaps not a joyful ending, but who would dare to say there was no happiness in it? Certainly not me. (A Man’s Last Wish: How a Scrawny Kitten, a Chance Encounter, and a Journey to Venice Gave Him Twenty Years of Unexpected Happiness)

James opened his eyes and, to his surprise, found a scruffy, thin grey kitten curled up on his lap. Its ears stuck out at odd angles on its tiny head, and when it stood on its back legs, it nuzzled his face with its warm nose.

Heart defects are among the hardest illnesses to endure. In cases where the condition grows critical, a transplant can be the only hope. Until a suitable heart is found, a patient often undergoes surgery or is fitted with special electronic devices to help the weakened organ keep working.

Yet, even with all the modern advances, many with congenital heart conditions never make it to adulthood.

James, however, was an exception.

He reached the age of thirty-fivea miracle, doctors said. Years of hospital admissions, endless examinations, and repeated operations became normal for him. Surgeons fitted implants, adjusted his heart whenever they could, doing everything possible to lengthen his time, if only by a little.

That was how hed managedif managed was the right word for living each day pinned between the hope for a donor, another operation, or the prospect of death. Thats why hed never settled down. He hadnt met a woman willing to live beneath such shadows, nor did he wish to burden anyone with his illness. Now his parents were gone, and James was on his own.

Spending a month or more in hospital each year was just another routine, but this time, something was different.

His doctor rifled through papers, checked his computer, and heaved a deep sigh before finally saying bluntly, You should get your affairs in order. If you want your belongings to go to anyone in particular, make arrangements. Maybe visit your family.

The doctor looked away and said quietly, Were still hoping for a donor, but its a matter of luck. Your condition is extremely serious. Any more operations would be pointless. We could put you in a private room and hook you up to machines, but you wouldnt be able to leave until after the transplant. And when that heart might come only the Lord knows.

James said nothing. He felt wrung outexhausted by fear, waiting, and the constant fight for a life that didnt feel his. He managed a weary smile and said, Dont worry. I made my mind up long agoIm off on a trip.

The doctor snapped to attention, alarmed. You cant be away from the hospital! What if theres a donor? We wont be able to help you!

But James couldnt bear another moment of hospital walls or restrictions. He left and made his way to the travel agent. His last wish was to visit Veniceto see the city floating on water, stroll its bridges, and ride a gondola.

His heart hammered unevenly, weakness washed over him, so he sat on a bench in a city park. Shutting his eyes, he tried to steady his breath and ease the pain. Sunlight filtered through the branches, and he gazed at the shifting light until he had to close his eyes, then

Something light hopped onto his lap. When he opened his eyes, a dirty, scrawny grey kitten looked up at him, ears sticking out, peering with bright eyes. The little thing rose on its back paws and nuzzled his face affectionately.

Excuse me a voice sounded to his right.

A woman, probably thirty or so, stood nearby.

I came for him, I wanted to take him home, but he ran off You arent planning to keep him, are you? Please, may I have him?

James smiled and tried to hand the kitten over, but it gripped his shirt with tiny claws and cried out in protest. He hesitated.

Oh, little one You cant stay with meIm not even sure Ill wake up tomorrow. Go to this lovely lady.

Why arent you sure youll be alive tomorrow? she asked softly, sitting beside him.

To his own surprise, James told her everythingfrom his childhood to that days conversation with the doctor. He spoke about his fears, the endless battle for life, and his longing to see Venice. All the while, the kitten curled up in his arms and fell asleep, holding tight to him. The woman watched quietly, struggling not to cry.

Im sorry, James said, embarrassed. I didnt mean to upset you.

Right! she said briskly, springing to her feet. You are going to Venice, thats settled. But first

First, youre coming with me. Ill collect what Ive prepared for the kitten, and then well go to your place. Well settle the little chap in properly. After all, hes chosen you.

James stood up and handed her his key.

This is to my flat. If anything happens to me please take him.

Nothing will happen to you! she said with certainty. Now youve got someone to live for.

They strolled along together, chatting and laughing. For the first time ever, James stopped listening to his own heartbeat. His weakness vanished, as if it had never been.

I wont bore you with every last detail. Let me tell you the important thing.

James lived another twenty yearstwenty happy years.

He and the woman, named Alice, had two sons. Together, they travelled to Venice, gliding through the canals in gondolas, listening to singers, and walking beneath the moonlight. The city became a family dream come true. Far from hospital beds, James thrived.

Every year, doctors called him for check-ups, and Alice had to drag him there. Hed grumble, I feel fine!

But death cant be tricked. We can only keep it at bay a while, provided we remember who were living for.

One night, an old grey tomcat climbed into his lap. James understood straight away. He rose quietly so as not to wake Alice and went out onto the balcony. The moon was shining, bright as silver, as if just for him.

He sat in an old chair, pressed the cat to his chest and whispered, Dont be afraid. Im here. I love you.

The cat gazed back, gave a gentle sigh, and slipped into sleep for the last time.

James stroked him, watching the bright English moon.

And thats how they found them in the morningsitting side by side. James gazed into the sky.

They were buried together. At the service, Alice said, Their hearts lived as one, and stopped together.

She blamed neither fate nor God. Instead, she was thankfulfor the twenty years theyd been granted, for the world itself, for the scruffy kitten, for the man she loved, and for not walking away that day in the park.

Who can say where a miracle begins?

So their story ended. It might not have been a joyful fairy tale, but who could say that happiness was lacking?

Certainly not me.

And so, perhaps, the greatest gift in life is not the years you have, but what you fill them withand who you choose to share them with.